Dark tears
by JamesTWright
Summary: The ministry failed to execute their primary task and the magical world is on the brink of collapsing. Albus is traumatized and broken during his earlier years at Hogwarts. Will he stay sane in this insane world?
1. 1 The watch

**Author's note:** As the description might already give away, this is going to be a tragic story. I am not going to give away too much.

I hope you enjoy this first chapter; following chapters will probably longer. I will try to publish every week.

Any feedback is welcome; write me as much reviews / PM you like.

JTW

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter books or anything that is affiliated with the HP world.

 **Dark Tears**

Chapter 1: The Watch

An unusually dressed group of people was standing on a small flat hill; the view would've been astonishing, if it wasn't for the somber weather. The gray clouds were as Scottish as the highlands themselves and the ground was struggling to properly process all the rain. The green grass was in stark contrast with the dark gray clouds and the mud puddles, which were starting to form around the group of people. Any passing hiker would wander why such an unordinary group of people would meet up in such an uncommon place, but nobody else dared to go outdoors. Even the farmer in the lower valley didn't consider for a moment to leave his warm ranch to scout the surrounding, no one gave the group any thought whatsoever.

Among them was a boy, dressed as odd as the rest, who looked up to the sky. Although it had been raining for quite some time, he was not soaking wet at all. Even the soft breeze, which was very chilly for the day in September, seemed to have no effect on him at all. He hoped to see some sun today; he figured it'd make him feel less awful. His mind was pulled back to the group when someone started talking.

'I don't understand why we can't go by train,' the red-headed girl next to him said. The boy's eyes widened abruptly, the green eyes stood out of his light skin and black hair, but matched his scarf perfectly.

'You do know why, sweetie,' said the hooded man in front her with a kind but serious voice.

The girl was not happy with the answer and was about to respond, but decided, after seeing her father's face, she could better keep her mouth shut. A long silence followed and the atmosphere changed for the worse.

'They're late,' the hooded man eventually said, holding a pocket watch in his left hand. He had been checking it impatiently since they arrived at the spot. Various arrows were spinning at different speeds; some were even spinning in the counter-clockwise direction.

'What is the use of the watch?' the boy asked curiously, but his father did not answer, he was following the arrows carefully.

'Your father knows what he is doing Albus, just wait patiently, it will be clear to you soon,' the last member of the group responded. She was the only one who did not wear a pitch black cloak, but she was holding cage containing an owl in that particular hue. Her voice was normally warm and friendly, but today her voice skipped a bit. Albus knew she was nervous as well.

His father didn't seem to notice it at all; he was still focused on the watch. Albus had only seen it once before, years ago. He came across it during a little game of hide-and-seek with his older brother. He couldn't have been much older than 9, he imagined recalling that day. He hid inside the cupboard under the stairs, knowing his brother would never find him he started to look around the small room. The space had always been prohibited for the kids and was therefore locked most of the time. His curiosity had brought him in a lot of trouble many times already and he knew he shouldn't be touching anything, but he did it anyway. On a little shelve a beautifully designed timepiece was collecting dust, the inscriptions made even less sense than the numerous hands which appeared to be turning randomly. Moments later he was caught by his father, he remembered doing all the chores for a week. James had found this extremely funny, as to be expected.

A shiver ran down Albus' spine, he didn't want to think about his brother. Luckily for him, he did not have to anymore. A familiar voice made him forget his state of mind.

'Al!' another red-headed girl shouted while trying to hug him from behind, almost knocking him to the ground. For a short moment, Albus felt a little bit of joy, it faded as quickly as it had appeared.

'I wasn't sure you would still turn up' his father said and Albus noticed Rose's parents had also just joined them.

'Like I could keep her indoors, she would literally drive me crazy. She has Hermoine's temper, you know' Rose's father joked while winking to Albus.

'Yeah, yeah, still the joker Ron, can we go now please,' Hermoine replied annoyed, 'we lost enough time already.'

'What a beautiful view,' Rose mentioned while looking down to the valley. The rain reduced to drizzle and small rays of sunlight had found their way through the gray clouds. Albus knew he was wrong, seeing the sun made him actually feel worse.

Almost doubled, the group started drawing attention, a small goat walked up to the weird looking people. It seemed to have decided that the pitch-black coats might be better tasting than ordinary grass, because it started shewing on the one the little girl was wearing.

Ron burst into laughter, in contrary to Lily herself who cried for help while see tried to pull back here precious cloth.

'Let me handle this,' an unknown voice said from behind. The suited man took a curved wand from his pocket and moments later the goat disappeared into thin air.

'It'll be fine,' he responded to Lily's surprised face, comforting it slightly, 'I only moved it. – _Stupid animals –_ '

'Well, I have to port 20 others today,' he continued, 'you ready to go back?'

The man smiled to the three children, Albus didn't know if he had ever seen smile that was faker. The ministry official did not hide the fact that he hated the new rules very well.

After he realized nobody was going to reply he opened his suitcase, it contained a muggle newspaper. The civil servant threw it on the ground. The front page headlined _"France Joins The Battle Against Magical Terrorists"_ showing a photo of angry people holding signs like _"Magic is fantasy"_ and _"God hates witches"._

'Al, it's not for reading, take position,' his father said and he moved his attention away from the paper and followed his father's instructions. He was moments away from Hogwarts, he was happy about it; or at least pleased he could start a normal life again.

The last thing Albus remembered was being pulled away from the ground. He was holding the newspaper with both hands, just like everybody else.

He couldn't keep his eyes open; right before the landing he had the feeling something was wrong. He felt the sun on his face and it was much warmer than a split second earlier. The moment he hit the ground he was already unconscious.


	2. 2 The Torn Newspaper

**Author's Note:** While I was writing this chapter, I felt like the end of the previous chapter went too fast. Although the content is the same, I went in more detail in this chapter and corrected the end of chapter 1 _slightly_ to preserve continuity.

I am going to try to publish one chapter every week and to prevent the above to happen again, I'm starting to write chapters way ahead of the publication.

Any feedback is welcome; I really want to learn from this experience. I hope you all enjoy my work!

JTW

 **Dark Tears**

Chapter 2: The Torn Paper

The floor was cold and uneven; Albus felt his butt and back hurt, like he had just tripped and landed with his bottom to the ground. Opening his eyes hurt as well, the sun stood high at the blue sky and shone right inside his eyes. His pupils were not prepared to be illuminated that much all the sudden. He was sitting against an equally uneven wall which seemed to be the end of a small alley. The buildings alongside the alley were tall and old by the looks of the gray stones.

For a moment Albus thought he ended up in one of the hidden outdoor pathways he found in his second year at Hogwarts. The reason those pathways were built has always been a mystery to Albus, he had asked ghost Professor Binns once, but he never gave a satisfying answer. Instead he mumbled something about being similar to his curious father and continued another tedious lesson about 17th century wizards and witches.

Most of the alleys just ended in a dead end, some led to some painting that did or did not open dependent if the painting liked you or not. Most of the portraits, however, didn't like Albus. How could he have known that paintings didn't like to be woken from there slumber using an Amplifying Charm? Either way, the walkways had proven themselves to be incredible useful for hiding and secret meetings. Two things Albus was sort of known for, besides getting in trouble, something the whole Potter family was known for.

A distant honk made him realize he was definitely not at Hogwarts. The small alley ended into a somewhat noisy road, he saw people walk by. A few of those muggle murdering machines also passed the opening. No one seemed to notice Albus' alley.

Panic overwhelmed him a moment later, what the hell had happened and why was he alone in this street? He tried to open his mouth.

'Dad..?' he tried, but it was only a whisper, his mouth was too dry. No reply.

The moment he wanted to ask again louder, his hart skipped a beat, he realized he hadn't been alone at all. Two big blue eyes had been watching him from the beginning, more panic arose and he didn't consider it wise to talk just now.

The moment he noticed the other set of eyes, he was immediately locked onto them. The eyes had a deep, pure color blue and had a glance of innocence; it was almost hypnotizing.

'Are you an angel?'

Albus broke loose from what he'd swear had to be a spell and observed the little girl that had sitting just a few feet away from him apparently. He guessed she couldn't be any older than 8. He saw the girl demanded an answer, but he was too confused to reply.

'You fell from the sky,' she elaborated, 'only angels can fall from the sky, right?'

Albus didn't know how to answer; this muggle girl obviously saw what happened to him.

'What is your name?' he eventually asked to redirect her question.

She hesitated, 'Alice,' she eventually said.

'I'm Albus Potter, nice to meet you Alice.' And he extended is hand. Alice wildly shook his hand and a big smile arose over her little face. Albus was still sitting on the ground, both heads were closed to the same distance from the ground.

'Albus? Strange name for an angel if you ask me,' she replied laughing. 'Anyway welcome to Plymouth.'

 _Plymouth?!_ Panic filled his entire body. _How the hell did I end up in Plymouth?_ He abruptly started to look around for any clues, clues that could give him an idea why the Portkey moved him to the other side of the country and why he was the only one affected.

Alice seemed to read the horror on his face, her smile disappeared. 'Something wrong?'

Albus fully ignored her question; he jumped up from his, very uncomfortable, position and started investigating the surrounding. His brain went in overdrive, nothing made any sense. His initial panic slowly replaced itself by fear; fear of being alone, of being left alone.

 _What on earth has happened to me?_

'Looking for this?' the little girl asked, but Albus had already forgotten the girl was even there. He smashed his fist against a nearby door.

'Alice, Al-lice, where are you?' a shrill voice yelled.

Albus banged his head slowly to the door; he shivered when he felt a tear make his way over his cheek. He had no idea a woman on high heels had entered the blind alley screaming.

He did feel the little girl grab his left arm. After rubbing his eyes dry he turned back to the girl.

'You dropped this during your landing' she said while putting a crumpled piece of newspaper in his left hand.

'Here you are!' the same shrill voice yelled angry, 'I told you to stop walking off in little bystreets like this!' Her face looked furious.

Albus was benumbed; there were too much different incentives for him to handle at the moment. Alice tried to reply, but did not get any further than 'but… but mom.'

'And who the hell is this?' Alice' mother continued after noticing Albus, 'You know you shouldn't talk to strange man Alice!'

'He is not a stranger mom, he's an angel and he's my friend' the little girl replied.

That was obviously not something the woman had anticipated. She replied confused: 'Angel?' Albus had a feeling things would go down real fast, but couldn't move at all, he felt like he was just a spectator of his own life.

'Yeah, he fell from the sky, like in the stories, suddenly he dropped on the ground and so,' she continued, 'he is sad though.'

At that moment Albus knew his feeling had been right. Although the woman took a moment to process the information, her conclusion would turn out bad for him. She took a quick look at the boy and she abruptly pulled Alice away from him.

'I've seen you on the news,' she said with a great deal of hatred, 'you are one of those unholy terrorists.'

'HELP ME,' she yelled while grabbing her phone. Albus regained control of his body and decided this was is time to go; he started running towards the street.

'Stop him, he's escaping,' she yelled behind him to no one in particular. Some intrigued passengers stopped to look where the cry of distress came from. Albus almost tripped trying to pass them, but when he reached the street he ran as fast as he could, away from the crazy muggle, away from the strange street and towards safety.

Left, right and left again. It felt like he'd already been running for hours. He had no clue where he was or where he was going. Although he wasn't really blending in wearing his Hogwarts robe, none of the muggles really seem to notice him at all. To most adults he didn't really look any more curious than any of the goths, hipsters or cosplayers they see every day. Besides, their neighbors' lives were way more interested to gossip about.

His gut felt empty, he never felt so abandoned. He had been starring at the paper Alice had given him for hours. The picture of a very mean looking woman holding the sign _"Burn the witches"_ had ripped off from the portkey. He already tried more than a dozen ways to contact someone, but he couldn't reach nobody. Of course, he could have tried harder, used every knowledge he had. But he just didn't.

Instead, he was sitting on a bench, hid away between large oak trees. Boys his age were playing football at the little field at the center of the park and others enjoyed the warm afternoon sun. Two boys where kissing behind a tree not far from Albus. By the looks of the clothes and absence of girl, he was probably on school grounds. Albus didn't notice any of it, he had thrown away his robe and in his Hogwarts uniform he just looked like any of the other students.

Deep down it made him happy to be lost, at least he had a feeling how his brother must be feeling. Thinking of his brother gave him a little bit of courage. He had to do something. If not for himself, for his parents, they had to be searching for him, didn't they? He reached deep down to collect his wand from the pocket he had buried it moments ago.

' _Portus numtium,'_ he whispered pointing at the little piece of newspaper. The little piece of newspaper initially turned blue, but it faded quickly. He sighed; the torn portkey could obviously not be used for sending messages anymore.

Albus shook his head and sighed again. He knew he only had one option left, at least one he could think of.

He left the bench he had been sitting on for the last half an hour, he gave it one last look. The seat had graffiti all over it, mostly initials or dull pictures, nothing strange at all. Nevertheless, Albus had the strange feeling he'd already seen it before.

He quickly shook it away, not considering it of any meaning and walked towards the street.

'It better be real,' Albus said to the air in front of him. He took a deep breath stretched his arm out into the street, waving his wand.

Nothing.

Three more times Albus waved his wand in any way possible before giving up. He felt defeated, beaten by the world. Anger filled his heart and brain, he was pissed at his dad for making him look a fool, but mostly angry at himself for not handling the situation better. He was a wizard and not just any wizard, the son of the famous Harry Potter for crying out loud. His anger turned to rage while he paced over the sidewalk. He wanted to hurt someone, desperately needing to let go of his hatred, he put his eyes on a red mailbox. Although the mailbox was made of a rather strong plastic, the kicking and punching felt refreshing and pleasant. It didn't took long before the ground was covered in cards and letters. Between the rather formal envelopes with a small address written on them, there were a few of those colorful cards muggle tourists sent to show off to their families.

'You do know muggles have a word for that, right?' Albus stiffened, ' "Destruction of public property".'

Albus turned around to see who was talking to him.

'Ok, I lied, that were three, no four, four words.' But Albus was too occupied with looking his eyes out to even listen, let alone respond.


	3. 3 The Dressing Room

**Author's Note:**

First of all, I need to apologize to you all, I've let you down.  
My laptop was stolen a month or 2 ago and I tried my very best to find back the chapters I wrote. But they are gone.  
I still intent to finish this story, but it might take a bit more time, as I can't write anywhere and anytime anymore.

But I started with rewriting all chapters, starting with this long overdue chapter 3.  
I hope you will find it interesting.  
Any questions, ideas, feedback? Contact me!

JTW

 **Dark Tears**

Chapter 3: The Dressing Room

Harry had had already a very bad feeling about this day from the start, but the moment he touched that newspaper and the ground started the world started to spin around him – _or was it the other way around? –_ his knew his worst nightmare would come true.

 _I'm going to lose the rest of my family._

Portkeys normally work pretty fast, but Harry's mind wind into total overdrive, feeling like everything magically slowed down. Harry had never seen anything like it, there were many kinds of magic and only a few of them were properly understood. He couldn't move anything, his view was locked onto horrifying look in his wife's eyes, memories started to flood his mind – _somewhere, there must be an answer somewhere –_ of lessons about portkeys, magical items and even of his divination lessons. Deeper and deeper he cleaved through his mind, he knew he was missing something. The Scottish highlands were completely dissolved into a piece of abstract art.

His view became blue, more blue than the ocean, but as undulating as such. He had seen this kind of blue many times. Silvery substances inside his eyeballs were starting to block his view to the outside world.

'Potter,' chief Parmount said, 'you know where this is going aren't you?'

Harry was looking at himself, he couldn't be any older than 25, he was standing in the hallway of the department of mysteries. He saw his old chief aurors pacing uneased. Harry was confused, he couldn't remember any meetings outside the Auror Office.

'I think I do,' Harry was listening very careful, 'We can't trust him anymore. I'll get it done, we'll meet at …'

Smoke filled the room, young Harry's voice changed into a indistinct whisper. Flashes of lights came out of nowhere. Silhouettes out of smoke surrounded, he saw himself yelling and sending out red flashes in any direction. Harry felt a chill run through his back as a green light moved right through him. It missed his younger self by a hair. He turned around to face Parmount and Harry could read his lips say "Save Lily and the baby".

Parmount apparated immediately, Harry tried to do the same, but a bright white light hit him in the chest before he was properly dissolve and he was pulled back to the room. Slowly the room started to liquefy while he saw himself collapse to the ground, splinched all over his body.

'Harry you need to wake up,' Hermione said while shaking him.

'What?'

'We're not on at the rendezvous-point, something is wrong,' she replied, 'thank god you are alright.'

'The kids and Ginny are missing,' Ron added worried. 'Maybe they made it there.'

'I doubt it,' The official from the department of transportation added. 'Dark magic surrounds this place, somebody casted an Anti-Disapparition Jinx.'

Harry stomach turned upside down, and panic struck him. He jumped up and paced in the room.

'Lily! Albus! Ginny!' He yelled desperately. He felt broken, more broken than ever before. He couldn't handle this anymore, not again, not now. He started running, running away, yelling for his family. The other wizards followed him.

'Harry come back, they're not here,' Hermione said while grabbing her high school friend's sleeve. Harry turned around, he saw tears in her eyes.

'We have to be strong, Harry,' she said with a trembling voice, 'I am sure Ginny is capable of looking after the kids. We need to find a way out of here. I don't think we ended up here by accident.

Harry calmed down a little, his breathing was still unregularly. After rubbing his eyes he discovered, that he had cried as well. He nodded and tried to pull himself together. After a few deep breaths his head started to clear. His family would count on him to rescue them, courage found a way into his heart.

Harry was surprised, he hadn't felt as confident like this in a long time, not after what happened. He looked around the room they ended up. It looked like the dressing room of a sports club. The room was dark, bright lights ornamented the tips of the other wizards' wands. Behind the small windows he could see stars in the night sky.

'How long was I out? It is already dark.'

'Not long, I don't get it either. Somehow we traveled in time as well,' Hermione responded.

'A portkey can sent you through time?' Harry responded confused.

'No, it certainly cannot.'

In the distance people were cheering, followed by a "oh", just like someone just missed a score in Quidditch.

The intoxicating stink of sport socks filled his scent, confirming his expectation. The room was quite luxurious, nothing like the Quidditch dressing room back in Hogwarts. He saw a big blue lion on the wall, reading "Chelsea Football Club".

'Well, we are in London, but when?' Harry said, but an answer never came. The face of Hermione said exactly what all the wizards had feared from the beginning.

'Get down!' she yelled, just before the room began to quake around him and a shockwave hit Harry's ears; he was smashed face down onto the floor.

He didn't know what terrified him more, the initial silence, the deafening silence, like all sound had gone from the world, or the million voices of distress and fear that followed milliseconds later. As one scream of terror it pulled away happiness faster than a dementor ever could.

This time it was Ron who helped him up. Hermione and the Transportation Official where already one their feet. The screams continued, the explosions as well; Harry took out his wand, but didn't say a word, he followed Ron towards what probably would be their suicide.

.-.-.-.

'So, what's it gonna be?' the man said to Albus. 'How about an apology?'

'I am sorry, sir,' Albus replied, but the man started to laugh.

'Not to me, to the mailbox of course.' He shook his head. 'Apologizing to me, kids these days,' he continued when he turned around laughing.

Albus was a caught a bit off guard, he turned around and looked at the beat up mailbox. His brother had always been interested in the muggle way of living. Albus, however, couldn't care less, he never understood why they didn't just use owls. _You don't have to be a wizard to train an owl._ He had heard his father stories about the time he lived with the Dursley's a million times, it horrified him, how could people live like that.

But not James, no James loved it. He could listen to his father's stories for ages, was interested in anything the muggles had come up with and had decorated his bedroom with pictures of, what Albus always described as "ugly metal killing machines". One time, Albus had watched one of them for almost a half an hour, but the photo had not moved, turned or changed the entire time. Even though he kept reminding his brother how dull they actually were, it never stopped him from collecting more and looking at them for hours.

Speaking of metal murdering boxes on wheels, the blue one that had just stopped in front of him was bigger than he had ever seen. It looked a lot like one of those old-style London busses, only an entire floor higher. He could hear is father say:

'Whatever you do, never, never buy a hot chocolate.'

'Like I would ever set one foot in that beast,' Albus' responds always was.

'Just in case, just in case,' his father emphasized. He had been right, like always. From as long as he can remember his father had always been right. As a kid it had been Albus' quest to prove his father wrong, but it rarely ever happened. As he grew older, his interest turned into annoyance and he stopped proving anything, but it kept bothering him. Always staying in the shadow of his father or possible the whole Potter family.

' _Repero.'_ The poorly pronounced spell pulled him out of his fantasy. The bus driver tried to help him by repairing the damage he had inflicted. He was making a fool out of himself; Albus saw two or maybe three envelopes move a bit closer to the damaged box, but it was not close to mending at all. Albus signed, took out his wand and after a small flick all the spilled letters started to move towards the different openings of the box. He made sure the driver didn't notice him, he was easily fooled.

'Well, that went well,' he said to no-one in particular, 'My mother will be so proud!'

'Thank you for your help,' Albus lied and he stepped into the blue monster, 'Ministery of Magic please.'

'All the way to London?' the bus driver responded, '1 Galleon and 3 Sickles.' And right there, that exact moment his renewed confidence left him. He remembered where he left his money. Somewhere in a dumpster in down town Plymouth.


End file.
